Poetic License
by Matthew1972
Summary: Loosely based around the 'poetry scene' of episode 5x03 of Merlin. In his pursuit to understand the beauty of spoken words Leon accepts that with his shy nature he may never grasp the true concept of poetry. Then Gwaine shows him there is something called poetic license to consider.


**Poetic License**

Poetry…

It was the art of making music with words and those who mastered the skill of rhyming them into lines of love had women fell at their feet… or so it was said. A learned man himself Leon understood what poetry meant.

Or at least he had always believed he did, until he met Merlin. The peasant born young man was far too outspoken to nobles and clumsy to boot, even on the best of days. A perfect servant Merlin was not, nor was he known for wooing women. Sure he was a loyal and good friend to have, but there was no way Leon could see him be a master at poetry.

Yet something about Merlin spoke against his modest background, because the servant had a way with words no one else in Camelot had. Elegant lines of wisdom spoken when no one else had an answer, or when Arthur asked him for it. How come the King did so? Leon still could not quite fathom it, even though a growing part of him listened to Merlin's advice just as intently on such occasions.

* * *

><p>Used right poetry could win over a woman's heart with romantic promises of love. More often than not Gwaine claimed he mastered it. Over the years Leon knew him the knight showed he had a unique version of the talent. Words of flattery and suggestion mixed with a healthy dose of flirting proved successful more often then not.<p>

However was it poetry? Leon never thought so, but Gwaine wasn't swayed on the matter and would always set out to prove him wrong. In the end any argument he had fell flat when Gwaine walked out the door of the tavern with a woman on his arm and a shared dirty glance over his shoulder meant for Leon. "I told you so", the unspoken meaning of his look seemed to confirm Gwaine's earlier mutter of "poetic license."

And for a while Leon would forget his pursue into a skill so creative it still eluded him, because all he could do was drink away the sudden loneliness and the green eyed monster lurking in the depths of his mind.

* * *

><p>"Poetry?"<p>

Out of the blue Leon blurted out his surprise when Merlin explained what he and Arthur had been up to in a far off hallway of the castle. All three of them got startled when he opened the door to burst in on their private affairs. Wide eyes stared back at him while Merlin blurted out how he taught Arthur the art of poetry.

"I… love poetry", the King admitted after sharing a glance with his servant.

Stunned Leon had walked off, not knowing what to make of the resulting awkward tension. "I will leave you to your poetry then, my Lord."

The moment kept on playing in the back of his confused mind the rest of the day…

* * *

><p>That evening when he visited Gwaine he told him what happened in the hallway and the other man laughed, "Poetry? Really? Was that the best excuse Merlin could come up with?" There was a rise of an eyebrow to suggest all sort of naughtiness went on instead.<p>

Leon grinned while Gwaine took another swig of the ale he'd brought. Shaking his head he reminded his friend of how awkward Arthur had looked and how Merlin had blurted out the first thing that seemed to come to his mind.

"Ah, all the more reason to think they were up to something far more interesting instead", Gwaine insisted with a wink. "Can't blame them, really. That kind of poetry can bring all sorts of fun."

"Oh?" His interest piqued Leon could not help but wonder if Gwaine meant it the way he hoped for somewhere deep inside his heart. "You would understand such a thing between two men?"

Sweeping the hair from his face with a hand Gwaine put his tankard down on the table with a soft thud, "I would." Brown orbs met his, unwavering and unyielding to stand down on something Gwaine believed in.

Leon smiled for it was what he admired most about him. Gwaine always grabbed whatever life had to offer him with both hands and a touch of humour. The trait was so different to his own careful nature that he felt in awe of it, while at the same time he feared for how it could let Gwaine down.

Meeting his eyes Leon saw Gwaine's strength and realised with all his heart this was his one chance to be bold, offered to him in a moment of shared honesty. And so in spite of his shy self he answered the unspoken question, "As do I… with the right man."

Over the table understanding dawned slowly at his soft spoken last four words. To show he meant each one Leon didn't look away from the intense stare filled with emotions. A long far too quiet moment passed, time slowing down while his heart sped up out of the fear of mistaking a friend's words for an offer he never intended to make. Had he misunderstood Gwaine after all?

A passionate kiss placed firmly on his lips stole all of his doubts. "Show me that poetic license of yours", Leon asked bravely when they came up for air.

* * *

><p>Only words of encouragement and moans of heated passion filled the chambers after they tumbled onto Gwaine's bed together. With nothing but sweat between them hands touched to the rhythm of their need. Kisses planted on sensitive places had Leon writhe in want and beg for a release he at the same time wished to keep at bay. This felt too good not to surrender to, even though more than anything he needed to, because he'd reached the point where pleasure almost had become too much to bear.<p>

How could he ever think Gwaine didn't know poetry? The way the other man played his body brought out the best of him. Shyness faded in favour of the greed to have more of this, to love more of the man who touched him in so many ways. His muse thrived in his presence and Leon had never felt happier.

In the searing ball of bliss that erupted deep inside of him he tumbled over the edge, closely followed by Gwaine. Now this… this was true poetry. His pursuit forgotten Leon fell asleep to the sound of the heart beating at his side in a perfect tune to his own.


End file.
